


Snowstorm

by youwerefantasticrose



Category: Doctor Who, Roski - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwerefantasticrose/pseuds/youwerefantasticrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki had never been much for trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowstorm

Loki had never been much for trust.

He’d always felt left out, even when in a crowd of people. Thor’s group of friends had tolerated him, it was true, but he’d always gotten the feeling that it wasn’t their choice. Thor had been the one person whom he had trusted at all, who he felt always looked out for him. But even still, he knew Thor’s arrogance, and he knew he was thought to be beneath his golden brother. And so he withheld his trust, instead embracing mischief, pranks, and that underlying, ever present feeling of loneliness. 

So it was odd, foreign to him, this trust he felt in this mortal woman. It made no sense. He’d only known Rose Tyler for a few weeks. And what weeks they had been. At first he’d be a horrible flatmate, locking himself in his room half the time, and raging at her the rest. But she’d stood her ground, which impressed him. How many humans would stand up to a god? With time, he’d become less abrasive, less angry, and her compassion towards him had continued to grow. And now, he trusted her. More than he had anyone before. She could talk to him, listen to him, look at him, without the hint of obligation and disgust behind her eyes that he’d grown used to in the halls of Asgard. She was the first in his life whom he felt understood him, who saw him as normal, an equal. They were both lost, and together they were no longer alone.

 

“Help me with these groceries, would you?” Rose called from the front door. She carried in two large bags, closing the door behind her with her boot. He took them from her, taking them to the kitchen table. She followed him, unwinding her scarf from her neck and taking off her coat, throwing them onto the nearest chair.

 

“’S getting cold out there,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Should start snowing soon. Maybe in the next few days.”

 

Loki nodded, keeping his face passive; but he swallowed a lump in his throat. He trusted her, but he had yet to tell her of his origins. He’d told her some of his story, of being in Thor’s shadow and the betrayal of his family, but he’d left out his parentage, fearful of her reaction. But now, as they’d grown closer, the omission made him feel… guilty. It was a new feeling for him. And he didn’t like it. He had to tell her, he decided. As soon as the first snow fell.

A few days later they sat on the sofa, mugs of steaming hot chocolate warming their hands. Rose laughed as he recounted a prank he had pulled on his brother, involving Thor’s birthday party and a pair of boots he’d enchanted to make the wearer dance like a loon.

“And he ended up trampling the enormous cake that had been prepared!” Loki chuckled at the memory. “Oh, I got in trouble for that one.

 

Rose wiped her eyes, still laughing. “You’re terrible,” she gasped. “Only family could put up with that.” 

His smile faltered, but he quickly hid it, standing up and retrieving their empty mugs. 

 

“I’ll just take these to the kitchen,” he said, as he left the room. He had just placed them in the sink when he heard a shout of joy from the other room. He looked over his shoulder to see Rose looking out the window, her face lit up.

 

“It’s snowin’!” she cried happily. “Let’s go outside!”

He took his time in his room putting on the warm clothes she’d helped him pick out. He had to do it, he told himself. It wasn’t fair to her to keep lying. (Since when did he feel guilty for lying? Some God of Mischief he was, he thought. What had she done to him?) He knotted an emerald green scarf around his neck slowly. It was time. He stepped cautiously out of his room, ready to face whatever might happen.

Rose ran out ahead of him. She twirled in the driveway, head back, tongue out, trying to catch some of the flakes in her mouth. He watched her from the doorway, and his heart spun with her.

She stopped spinning and turned to face him, her smile wide and her cheeks pink.

 

“Come out here!” she called. “‘S lovely!”

 

He took a cautious step out of the doorway, but stopped there, fear chilling him more than the snow swirling in the air. She stared at him, her forehead crinkling in confusion at his expression. She stepped toward him, her eyes shining with concern.

 

“Loki? Everythin’ alright?”

 

She reached out her gloved hand and placed it on his arm.

 

“I have to tell you something, Rose,” he said gravely.

“Alright,” she said slowly. “What is it?”

 

He studied her expression, the wrinkle of worry on her forehead, the softness in her eyes, her warm hand on his arm; just in case this was the last time she looked at him this way.

 

“I—,” he paused. “I’ve—” 

 

The words stuck in his throat. He pulled away from her slightly, and slowly removed his gloves and scarf, placing them in the deep pocket of his coat. He took a deep breath, and then focused on the cold and the memory of his discovery of his true father, until he felt himself change. His skin deepened into blue, his now red eyes staying on Rose’s face.

 

Her eyes widened, but she remained where she was.

 

“Though I was raised in Asgard,” he began, “I was not born there. My fath— Odin stole me when I was a child from Jotunheim, the home of Asgard’s greatest foes, the Frost Giants. It wasn’t until I was grown that I found out what I truly am. A monster.”

 

His eyes blurred with tears, and he turned from her, closing them tight, unable to bear her seeing him this way.

A warm bare hand slid into his own, which was hanging limply by his side. He looked down, to see her small yellow hand intertwined with his still blue one. He glanced into her face, and their eyes locked, hers still filled with concern and reflecting his own pain.   
“I know you, Loki. You’re no monster,” she said, squeezing his hand gently. “A bit of a pain in the arse, but not a monster.”

 

“But I am. I’ve hurt people. I’ve done terrible things,” he looked away.

 

“Where you come from doesn’t make you who you are, trust me. And doin’ bad things doesn’t make you a bad person.” 

 

She moved in front of him, reaching up to lift his chin so their eyes met. “You really think that?” he said, his eyes searching hers.

 

“Really,” she said, taking his other hand in hers. She squeezed them both, smiling. 

 

He finally smiled back, a warmth he hadn’t felt before filling his chest.

 

“You know, you’re not the first blue alien I’ve met,” she smiled, her tongue poking between her teeth. “Not by a long shot.”

 

“Oh, really?” he said, smiling wider. “I bet I’m the first to do this.” He dropped her hand, and with a flick of his finger, crashed a snowball into her arm.

 

She shrieked. “Oi, that’s cheating!” she grinned, running away from him and gathering up snow to throw back at him. She made a large ball, and tossed it at him with all her might. As it was about to hit him, she cheered, but her celebration was cut short when it went right through him and he disappeared. More snow hit her from behind, and she turned around to see the real Loki laughing.

 

“Not fair!” she grinned, shaking her head at him. 

 

“God of Mischief, remember?” He smiled down at her. She reached up and put her arms around him suddenly. He sighed, hugging her back, smiling into her yellow hair. She abruptly began to laugh against him.

 

“What?” he said, against her hair. A handful of cold snow went down his back. He shouted, pulling away.

 

“Gotcha, Mr. Mischief,” she laughed.

 

“Oh, just wait, Miss Tyler,” he grinned evilly. 

 

The air was filled with cold snow and warm laughter for hours, while they enjoyed the chill weather and the warmth of each other’s companionship.


End file.
